


Films About Ghosts

by rushedwords



Series: Project Enterprise [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Identity Issues, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:38:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3909853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rushedwords/pseuds/rushedwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of what could have been an extinction event for the people of Earth, Leonard McCoy needs to find out why the man in the picture with blue eyes seems so familiar. In doing so, he starts digging for more answers around Starfleet's secret branch - Enterprise - that wipes and imprints people to make the perfect officer. (Yes, this is a Dollhouse AU.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Films About Ghosts

Two months ago Vulcan was destroyed. Then a giant drill fell into the San Francisco Bay. And it felt like the end of the world was upon them. On Earth the sheer terror lasted only a few minutes before the unknown members of Starfleet saved them. Still, those ripples would be felt for weeks and months to come.  
  
The world had changed, but it was easier to pretend everything was the same. The sun still came up, credits were exchanged for all sorts of goods, and people continued to be selfish idiots.  
  
While he would deny it, Leonard McCoy was probably counted among them. Only he wasn’t happy about it. But he didn’t need to happy. He just needed to be a doctor in whatever capacity left for him. McCoy tried to keep his days honest and his hands as clean as he could.  
  
It made it easy to forget the things he couldn’t quite remember.  


 

###

  
Sometimes, McCoy wondered why he bothered keeping an apartment he barely saw. It certainly wasn’t home, but it was a step above permanently sleeping on the cot in the office attached to his laboratory. And hell, if he was being generous, it even gave him the needed illusion of a personal life.  
  
However, the apartment was little more than a few rooms filled with things he wasn’t even sure belonged to him. They just filled space because it seemed the thing to do.  
  
Coming through the front door, he was on automatic. Even if he just wanted to collapse into his bed, there were things that needed to be done. The top of that list was sifting through the junk mail on his home comm. unit before it overloaded the system again. Most of it didn’t matter, but he learned the hard way not to just deleted everything.  
  
It was almost therapeutic to go and just delete the junk because it was the only part of his life where he could. In the middle of all that much was a picture of kid. More a man, around twenty-five, if he wasn’t just being condescending. The young man was stunning - comfortable in his body with just a pinch of cockiness that suited him well. What put him over the top were those eyes. They were too blue and familiar in a way that McCoy couldn’t place.  
  
There was no explanation of the picture other than the file name - JIM. McCoy played that name in his head, considering if the man looked like a Jim, which he did. Although he also warranted a handful of other semi-degrading, but loving, nicknames.   
  
He should have just deleted the picture because it was clearly sent to him in error. Only that wasn’t what he did. Instead, in that moment he wasn’t able to forget the fact there was something he couldn’t remember. (And if that didn’t make his head hurt, he didn’t know what would.)  
  
Scrubbing his face, a secondary screen popped up over the image. The blinking text read, “Keep looking,” and McCoy didn’t even try not to click. He needed to know more, needed to chase that feeling in his gut just a little bit more.  


 

###

  
There was already enough on his plate without acting like some fictional seven-year-old girl chasing rabbits. But he couldn’t stop. He just kept digging through the reports and specs on full brain mapping, on bio-downloads and uploads.  
  
The science was beautiful. Until the reality of it twisted his stomach, redefining words that should be universal constants like ‘human’ and ‘free will.’  
  
For two weeks McCoy was consumed by it. In between cases and cops who under estimated him, it was all that he thought about it. And for all he did think about it and dig deeper, he still couldn’t figure out who the man in the picture was. As far as he knew the man was no one, but he couldn’t help but felt that everything hinged on him. Unable to let anything go, he was going to need someone who had higher security clearance than the county medical examiner.   
  
With her connections to Starfleet Intelligence that he didn’t officially know about, Nyota Uhura was the perfect candidate. Their long standing friendship and the fact that she owed him one for a medical incident a few weeks ago didn’t hurt either.  
  
While he was a whirlwind of reports and ran on caffeine, Nyota was all clean lines and well-timed words. He didn’t think she got anymore sleep that he did most days, but she hid it better.  
  
McCoy wrapped his hands around his mug, savoring the warmth on his hands for a moment. He was about to cross a line with one of the few people he could stand to be around these days. There would be no going back. A better man might not have pushed, but Leonard McCoy never claimed to be a better man. “You ever hear of Enterprise?”  
  
She looked up at him, the beginning of a mocking chuckle on her face. “Tell me you mean the verb or even the ancient car rental place.”  
  
Her reaction wasn’t unexpected. His frustration over it was not anticipated. “No.” He sighed, not sure how much he liked this side of the line, but he was here now. “Enterprise, like the covert branch of Starfleet that brainwashes people to make the perfect solider, perfect ambassador…the perfect something else.”  
  
Nyota shook her head. Despite trying not to name it, he could see the pity in her eyes. “It’s a myth, Len, an urban legend that children tell in school yards because it makes for a good story.” She reached across the table to take his hands, as if the physical touch could offer him the comfort he needed. “There is no such thing as Enterprise.”  
  
McCoy pulled his hands away. “The technology exists.” He didn’t want to be comforted or told that he was being ridiculous. “I’ve seen the reports, hell, some of the stuff I’ve developed is based in the same theoretical work. If I can graft neural tissue, what’s to say people can’t erase and even rewrite memories or entire personalities?”  
  
“Just because the technology exists doesn’t mean that people are using it.” It was the same argument people had used for hundreds of years. “Besides those sciences have been highly regulated and limited since the end of World War III.”  
  
“That’s god damn bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” McCoy knew exactly how far he would go for a patient. It was a blurry line between was right and what he thought was best or appropriate in any given situation. Still, there were some lines he knew not to cross. However, not everyone shared his strange sense of morality. “It’s human nature. If something like that exists and someone can turn a profit, be it money or power, people are going to use it, find ways around the laws if they have to.”  
  
Although the words were strong, his entire posture was not. McCoy could feel her gaze heavy on his head. He was torn between toying with the scrap of plastic in his hands and staring her down.   
  
“What makes you so sure?”  
  
The question was careful and he couldn’t help but look up at her then. There was pity again, but mixed with something else he didn’t know how to name. “It’s just this  _feeling_  I have.”  
  
“And?”  
  
He shook his head, taking the chance to ease the tension between them. “How do you always know that?”  
  
“It’s my job.” Her smile was light taking his lead to not let this conversation come crushing down around them.  
  
“I can trust you with this?” Even before she had given him an answer, he powered up his PADD.  
  
“Of course, Len. You know that.”  
  
The thing was he really didn’t, but he wanted to. Whether or not that enough didn’t matter. McCoy needed someone on his side regardless of motive more than he needed absolute trust. It took a moment for him to pull up the file. Or rather it took a moment for him to send it to her because until now that man, Jim, had just been his and he rather liked that. And he knew that was a fool thought, but the mind was a strange and crazy place.  
  
Before he could second guess or think about it at any length right now, he sent her the picture - just the picture. Holding his breath, he waited for receipt of message.  
  
And just like everything else she did, Nyota was deliberate in all of her actions. She didn’t give a thing away until he saw the slight curl at the corners of her mouth. “Oh he’s cute.”  
  
Of all the words that Len could think of to describe Jim, cute wasn’t one of them. The man in the picture was bright, beautiful, stunning even, and definitely haunted. There was something there in those eyes he couldn’t quite place, he saw the more he looked and it didn’t have a damn thing to do with cute.  
  
“Do you know who he is?” She asked, probably already knowing the answer given how soon after her next question followed. “Do you think he might be involved with Enterprise?”  
  
The only thing worse than asking for help was knowing he wasn’t going to get it. “Do you think you can just find out who he is for me?” He didn’t care if she thought he was crazy, he probably was, but that didn’t change the fact that he needed answers. “I know you work for Intelligence, and you’re not allowed to do this sort of stuff, but I’m just looking for one person.”  
  
And maybe, just maybe, this was the one time that pity was going to get him something. “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not making any promises.”  
  
A thank you would have followed, as well as an awkward shift into a different conversation topic, if not for the message that flashed across his screen just then. “Damn it. I have to get back to the lab. I’ll give you a call later.”  


 

###

  
The thing about fairy tales and legends was that they had to start somewhere. This one started over two centuries ago in Los Angeles, which was all too appropriate. Everyone had always joked that Los Angeles was hell. It was only an appropriate setting for the collapse of the human race.   
  
Not that the history books told the full story about World War III. And really, it was far nicer to focus on the push out to the stars that came from the ashes of those dark years instead.  
  
But it was going to be different this time. This time the technology would not be used for profit, but rather defense against the things out in the depths of space that would rather kill you than make peace. Only one branch of Starfleet controlled the information. Although Project Enterprise was contested among those with the clearance to know, the results couldn’t be denied.  
  
And while to those people Captain Christopher Pike was running the show, behind closed doors, Pavel Andreievich Chekov knew he was really the one in charge. A child prodigy turned genius. Project Enterprise was the best thing that could happen to his career even if he couldn’t tell anyone outside of the organization about his work.  
  
He looked over his toys with a sense of wonder. His laboratory was perfect for it – placed high over the common space with a clear view of the mess and the main assembly area. Chekov could lean over the banister and peer down on the dozens of blank slates safe behind his glass wall. From this position he was a god.  
  
“Will you look at that?” Even if he was alone in the room he might have spoken aloud because things always sounded better when he could say them out loud. Although they sounded perfect when he had an audience, which was why he had asked Hikaru Sulu up to his office this afternoon.  
  
Sulu crossed the room to see what the overgrown child was so excited about. All he saw was Romeo and India engaged in some sort of conversation. It was probably about how much they loved bananas or Romeo’s new favorite – why India had pointed ears when he did not. None of it was a cause for concern. “They are eating lunch?”  
  
Chekov turned to Sulu, throwing his hands in the air in a flurry of wild motions. “Yes! They are eating lunch, the two of them, at the same table, just like they have been all week!”  
  
“Are you saying they remember each other?”  
  
“No, no, that is not possible.” Chekov glanced back down at the two men. “The wipes are clean. This goes beyond recognition, beyond memory. It is, as you say, instinct.”  
  
“Are you sure? Ever since the Narada-”  
  
The other man exploded at the word, taking it as a grave offense. “Of course I am sure! I am very good at what I do.”  
  
“Of course you are. Starfleet only let the best people stay on.” Sulu crossed his arms over his chest. “Although after everything, I can’t help but wonder what best means after that engagement.”  


 

###

  
The Narada Incident, in a word, was a clusterfuck.  
  
They had saved the world only to have their launch date pushed back no less than three times. From his hospital bed, Pike had fought tooth and nail to stop the project from being shelved all together. Now, it was just a game of managing damage enough to appease the right people. Only the damage was never ending.  
  
“It seems that we have an unexpected complication.” Pike walked around his solid wood desk to lean on the front side. Technically he shouldn’t have been walking, even with the use of a cane, but he had an image to maintain even if his chief of security only saw that image.  
  
“Sir?” Her voice was even, calm, never betraying anything and yet saying all that needed to be said in a word. There was a reason why she was the only one he ever wanted as his chief of security. The woman was unflappable.  
  
He picked a loose thread from the cuff of his command gold shirt. “Doctor McCoy continues his search for Enterprise.”  
  
She stood at parade rest, physically unmoved by the announcement, when by all rights it was a big concern. Doctor McCoy with his meddling could bring the whole project down. “I can have a team dispatched to neutralize the threat within the hour.”  
  
Pike shook his head, trying to hide the smile on his face. “I don’t want him killed, Number One.”  
  
“I’m not sure that I follow, sir.”  
  
Of course she didn’t. It went against dozens of protocols put in place to protect the project. However, she didn’t see the big picture, she only saw the pieces she was privileged to and even then her first priority was to keep them off the radar at all costs. “Things have been too turbulent since the Narada Incident, which leaves us vulnerable. I don’t need a dead doctor, what I need is to know what he knows, and who he has been talking to and he can’t talk if he’s dead.”  


 

###

  
Someone matching the description has been seen around the abandoned lab by the piers. I’m getting this third hand, so I’m not so sure how useful it is, but it’s worth a shot right. -- N  


 

###

  
McCoy had some bad ideas in the past, but this had to rank within the top three.  
  
While work might force him into this sort of setting, there were precautions in place. More specifically there were at least two detectives who logged hours at the shooting range and his favorite medical investigator who could take him down from the ledge of a very bad idea. Here he was, a surgeon who couldn’t keep his hands steady enough so he opted for a life of rogue medical examiner with a personal handgun license.   
  
What he should have done was poked his head in, spotted no one and left. That would have been the smart thing to do. Except while Leonard McCoy might play at being a genius he was never been particularly reasonable – not when there was someone or something to be saved. As far as he knew the man was a stranger. But looking at that picture, he couldn’t help by notice something in those eyes, a little glimmer that felt directed toward him.   
  
Ridiculous as it was, he couldn’t just let it go.   
  
The best he could do was to keep calm. Focused on the soothing drumming of his heart, he made even steps through the lab, trying to hold the flashlight steady. If he could just pretend this was any other building, or any other case, then he could do this.   
  
He could do this until there was a dull, but loud, crash from one of the back rooms. He jumped, biting his tongue to muffle the string of curse words that threatened to escape and otherwise give away his location. At least his next action was somewhat rational as his hand phaser – set to stun, but it was better than nothing.  
  
Every measured tiny step felt more monumental now. His eyes scanned over the discarded hypo cases, emptied vials and the remaining wires from removed terminals – except one. McCoy walked over to the back of the lab. If he could get that terminal turned on and pull up some files, he could find out if this place used to be Project Enterprise.   
  
As a rule, McCoy didn’t trust many of the newer computers, but he could hunt and peck his way through them if he had to. Unfortunately, the databank connected to this monitor appeared to be corrupted. Sighing a bit too loudly, he powered down the system and started back through the laboratory again with his pistol leading the way.  
  
Turning the corner into the hallway, a man about his size jumped out in front of him. And apparently all those hunting trips with his daddy back in Georgia paid off as held the pistol steady, even as he dropped the flashlight. While he wasn’t likely to use it, the gun was more powerful than some stupid piece of metal clutched in the man’s hands.  
  
Heartbeat pounding in his ears, he squinted to see out the person in the shadows. If he was trying to figure out who the man was, he wasn’t worrying about the fact he was a few seconds away from throwing up all over himself.   
  
Then he saw his eyes and his stomach just dropped.  
  
“You have some form of ID?” He asked, unsure where he pulled the confident cop voice from, but it seemed to work so that was fine by him.  
  
The man motioned downward, but didn’t loosen his grip on the beam. “My left pocket.”  
  
McCoy nodded and took a tentative step closer to the man. “Alright, I’m going to reach in there and take it out, okay?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, fine. I’m not looking for any trouble, okay? I just want to go home.”  
  
Something told McCoy that wasn’t the whole story, but there was only one way to get to the bottom of this. He needed to go further down the rabbit hole. Taking a deep breath in, McCoy removed the ID card from the man’s left pocket. “This is you? Corbin Reynolds?”  
  
“Yeah,” the man replied.   
  
The problem was this was Jim. This was the man in the picture. “Middle name.”  
  
“Leeland.”  
  
It still wasn’t adding up, but that wasn’t stopping him. “Okay, I’m going to put my gun away, but you do anything stupid and don’t think I won’t take it out again.”   
  
The man nodded and carefully set down the beam, his eyes were tracking McCoy the entire time. “Are you a cop?”  
  
“Not exactly.” Gun back in the holster, he pulled out his medical examiner ID card. It gave him a bit more authority than just some random civilian, but not any weight that would hold up long term. He could tell the man, and he wouldn’t call him Corbin, wanted to ask him questions, but McCoy didn’t pause. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“I’m looking for someone.” The man handed back the medical badge and got a glare from McCoy prompted him to keep going. ”My brother.”  
  
McCoy scoffed. “Why would your brother be here?”  
  
The man rolled his eyes like a goddamn child. “Well, clearly he’s not.”  
  
“This would got a lot easier if you were being honest with me, here.” Now, he was even starting to doubt if that ID card still in his hand told the truth. Maybe his brother was Jim.   
  
Corbin laughed. “Do I? I mean the Federation hasn’t exactly been on the level with me. No one in the system can get their ass out of a holodeck long enough to follow a lead.”  
  
The kid didn’t seem like he was stopping anytime soon, so McCoy decided to jump in. “I have your picture.”   
  
That certainly got the kid’s attention. “What?” He turned back around to look at McCoy again. “Are you sure?”  
  
McCoy nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. Someone sent me it.”   
  
“Can I see it?”  
  
That question was inevitable, but he didn’t get a chance to answer. There was another noise and McCoy reached for his gun again. “You here alone?” Judging by how tense the man was, the answer was yes. “Alright, let’s get out of here.”  


 

###

  
Chekov did not like the doctor. It wasn’t about her scars for him, like it was with everyone else. It was more her general existence that just bothered him.   
  
Unfortunately, what he needed was kept in her office. With any luck he could just get in, grab the PADD and leave before she realized he was there. Dr. Chapel did not need to know what he was doing or what he needed.   
  
Except that while Chekov fostered a small obsession for spy themed video games, those skills didn’t translate to the real world. And it wasn’t like he could imprint himself and still be himself – and he was pretty awesome, so why mess with that? Except when he was just an awkward young man, prone to tripping over himself when he was nervous.  
  
“Can I help you with something?” She asked, standing just at the end of the shelves in the shadows.  
  
Chekov jumped. Maybe the fist pump as he approached the PADD library was asking for trouble, but the good doctor hadn’t been anywhere in sight at the time. Of course that had been forgetting that the doctor could have very well been a ninja or a spy.  
  
“What? No, no, no, I am fine.” He pulled the PADD he came for close to his chest, only drawing more attention to it.  
  
“Enterprise has an open medical file policy,” she explained stepping into the light. Okay, so maybe the scars made him more uneasy, but she could have gotten rid of them! “So, why are you stealing something you have the right to?”  
  
He sighed. No, he did not like her at all. “Okay, you have caught me. I was just testing your security.” Even in the light, the office was still relatively dark. Dr. Chapel preferred it that way. Chekov thought it was because she liked to hide and scare innocent geniuses whenever she got the opportunity.  
  
“Do we have a problem?” She motioned to the PADD in his hands.  
  
“Huh? No, I’m not–” He threw his hands up, bringing more attention to the PADD in his hand and giving Dr. Chapel a view of the screen. “Okay, maybe a couple of the actives are of minor concern.”  
  
She crossed the office to the monitor at her desk and pulled up two files specifically – Romeo’s and India’s. “Is this about their grouping?”  
  
“WHAT?”  
  
“They’re grouping,” she repeated slowly as if she was talking to a small child and to some extent perhaps she was. “Romeo and India spend a significant amount of time together when they are not on engagements. They even sit at the same table for meals.”  
  
Chekov laughed, backing up into the shelves, when he meant to be going toward the doors. “I have no clue what you are talking about, Dr. Chapel. Maybe you’re spending a little too much time in the house.”  
  
“Wrong.” She followed him step for step and carefully plucked the PADD from his hand. “I know you know because I watch you watching them from your lab like a king on high.”  
  
“Okay, okay,” he said throwing his hands up in surrender. Chekov didn’t even want to consider the implications of Dr. Chapel watching him – further proof of how creepy she was. “Maybe the grouping is the concern, but just a little one. Tensions have been high since the Narada engagement.” Which was expected – a whole planet was lost and the Federation was grasping to keep things together. Enterprise had to be nothing but their best. “You have not told…” he motioned toward the ceiling – really toward the offices a few floors above them.  
  
Dr. Chapel watched him with a critical eye. “No, I haven’t said anything to Captain Pike, but my recommendations that the team from the Narada engagement be given some time off still stands.” She crossed over her office to peer out into the main area of the barracks. It was dinnertime and the actives not on engagement should have been milling around, probably eating. “Pavel,” she asked turning back to the man, “where is Romeo right now?”  
  
“Out on assignment?” Chekov ducked, knowing that was not the answer she wanted to hear, but it was the truth and there was no point in lying. Dr. Chapel would be examining him when he returned in a few hours.  
  
The doctor smacked Chekov with the PADD in her hand. “Do you even read my reports?”  
  
“Doctor, no one reads your reports.” The young man winced and rubbed his arm. “And to be honest, we cannot afford to pull our most requested actives from the floor right now to have a little vacation. But look around, they live in Eden!”  
  
Her eyes narrowed and Chekov was pretty sure that if she had any sort of high psi ability, his head would be exploding right now. “What kind of engagement is Romeo on right now?” She carefully enunciated each word.  
  
“I do not know, but it is all fair in love and war, no? And this probably a little bit of both.”  
  
For good measure she smacked him again, because it was about the only thing she could do. However, this time Chekov was ready for it and snatched the PADD from her as it hit his arm. File in hand he scampered out of her office to go run more tests.  


 

###

  
McCoy was sure he dealt with cases like this. Sad lonely man brings some pretty stranger home and ends up dead in the morning. The problem was that this Corbin didn’t feel like a stranger, and he needed to know the man’s story and more importantly how it might tie into his own.   
  
“After he stopped writing, I came out here,” said Corbin, following McCoy into his apartment. “He was gone, his girlfriend was gone. So I tracked down her friends, their friends...” The blonde stopped to take in the all too average apartment.  
  
“Is that when you heard about Enterprise?”  
  
Corbin shook his head. “I heard about it a few times before, mostly as a joke, you know? But by that point, I was thinking, why not? If people were being taken off the street, mind wiped and just gone from existence...” He paused before taking a seat on the end of the couch closest to the door. “Well, it sort of fit.”  
  
McCoy didn’t have to be a detective to see that the kid was uneasy. So, maybe he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t sure if their situation was all that smart. “I should have some beers.” He motioned back toward the kitchen.  
  
“Yeah, that’d be great.”  
  
All right so maybe offering the man a beer wasn’t completely about putting the man at ease, but it was a good way to get prints for later. McCoy was gone from the room for just a few minutes to pull two bottles and an opener. He handed one to Corbin, who smiled up at him.  
  
The two fell into a silence, allowing the beer to talk for them for a minute. Corbin couldn’t have had two slips before he set his drink down and pressed his face into his hands. “Shit, you must think I’m pathetic.”  
  
Although he wanted to, McCoy didn’t let himself laugh at that. “No more than most.” He shrugged and sat on the other end of the sofa. “No more than me.”  
  
Corbin turned to him, scooting a little closer to McCoy than he would have normally liked, but he didn’t feel uncomfortable. “Can you just – can you just tell me what you know?”  
  
McCoy took a big swallow his beer before setting it down on the table and standing up. The kid’s proximity was messing with his head. “I know the science exists, the mind is a malleable thing, especially when we’re younger. It would make sense that can be used that way when you get older too.” He started pacing, going toward his desk. “And I’ve had enough people tell that I’m crazy to know that I’m probably not.”  
  
“Do you have a file?” Corbin was up on his feet, following McCoy’s pacing. “Something that I could look at?”  
  
“Yeah, give me a second.” He went over to his desk and pulled up that file again - looking at the picture and remembering the words that came with the data packet.   
  
“Today started off kind of shitty, but then I find you, and you make it real.” He laughed nervously. “You’re like some hero come to save the day.”  
  
McCoy glanced back at Corbin and then back at the file.   
  
Keep Looking.  
  
“I’m no hero, kid.” He turned around to face the other man. “I’ve been running into dead ends for weeks, going a little nuts, wondering if it’s real or even if I’m anything more than my bones. And then you show up, and hell, who shows up to tell me exactly what I want to hear? Nobody. Nobody tells me what I want to hear.” They all made fun of him. They pitied him. Only there wasn’t an ounce of pity here. “I think that’s who you are - nobody.” And Enterprise was full of nobodies pretending to be people. “So, maybe I’ll take you down to the station, run some tests.”  
  
Before Corbin had a chance to react, McCoy pulled the gun out and pointed it right at him.  
  
Apparently that was not the best thing to do. The man’s jaw tensed, his body just slightly moving into a defensive position. McCoy should have been embarrassed at how easily he was disarmed. “I’m not ‘nobody.’" The words came with the click of the gun being switched to a higher sitting. Sure, the gun only went to stun, but a high setting stun aimed to the right organ was fatal.   
  
McCoy swallowed and looked the man right in those too blue eyes. “Are you Jim?”  
  
The man hesitated, eyes wide, and McCoy’s stomach did a little flip. Of course that was all he could do because next he knew, Corbin was squeezing off three shots at him. And McCoy went down hard.  
  
‘Corbin’ stood there starring down the barrel of the gun, listening to the even rise and fall of his chest. He didn’t blink when the door opened and Sulu walked in. “What happened?”   
  
“I got made, that’s what happened.” ‘Corbin’ shook his head and went over to where he saw the doctor going for the file, before sense got the better of him. “In all my years, I have never been made and this Joe nearly takes my head off.”  
  
Sulu crossed the room, to assess the man on the floor - not quite dead, but well on his way. “I thought this was a recon, you have a kill order?”  
  
“Nobody has ever made me.” ‘Corbin’ shook his head and rummaged through the PADDs scattered on the desk. Powering on the PADD on the top he saw that picture of himself.   
  
The problem was he didn’t remember that picture being taken and he remembered everything.  
  
Down the street, sirens were playing their song in the night air. “C’mon, we need to get out of here.” Sulu grabbed him by the arm and tugged him out the door, muttering who got the sort of response time.  
  
Sulu tried to ignore the rambling as best he could until he got them to a secure location for extraction. And while all he wanted to do was yell at Chekov, right now he needed to check in with Number One. Flipping his communicator open, he activated the channel. “This is Sulu, we are going to need an extraction from this location.” He hoped that at least Number One would save her air of smugness for when they were out of immediate danger.  
  
“Oh did Romeo go off mission?” Came the voice on the other end of the phone. “I told Pike this was a bad idea, his prize little active couldn’t even get the job right. But I can save that for later. We have you, stand by for extraction.”  
  
And if Sulu slammed his communicator closed a little harder than he needed, well, no one was going to say anything.   
  
“What’s the sitch?”  
  
Sulu sighed. “It’s not an 187, our guy at General says he’s going to make it.” ‘Corbin’ shook his head. That was unacceptable. He pulled the stolen gun out and turned it on Sulu. “What are you doing?”  
  
‘Corbin’ switched the phaser to stun and pointed it at Sulu. “I have a reputation to maintain. I don’t leave a job unfinished. So, I’m going to pass on that treatment right now.”  


 

###

  
The trick to being a good agent was being able to balance instinct and training. ‘Corbin’ had dozens of kills under his belt and even more successful captures. He didn’t exactly like the killing, but it was all a part of the job. He got the order, he completed it, and he got paid. That was how the system worked. Plain and simple.  
  
Or it did, until this stupid Doctor McCoy had not only made him, but caused him to doubt the mission. And he needed to be a believer.   
  
Getting across down to the hospital was just a matter of borrowing a transport and at the hospital security was laughable. The more prominent the hospital the easier it was because there were just so many people moving around and an automated patient directory. So, while he could have flashed a smile, it was easier to just ask the computer to direct him to McCoy’s room.   
  
Walking down the hospital hallway he was stuck by a sense of déjà vu. It wasn’t really a memory as much as it was a feeling of having been here before or somewhere like here. Sure, hospitals were pretty commonplace, but something felt different.   
  
‘Corbin’ shook the feeling off and kept his pace strong. He didn’t have time to be distracted. Easy as it was to get in, it only took one orderly or nurse to blow everything to bits.   
  
There was a sigh of relief when he reached the ward where McCoy was being held. From outside of the sterile field the man looked dead. Only the steady beep of machines told him that his eyes didn’t see the whole picture.   
  
He shifted the gun into his dominant hand, stricken at how heavy it felt for a moment. Only it wasn’t his job to judge who got to live or die. He just had to complete. Taking a deep breath in he walked toward the sterile field.  
  
“We got the stand down.” Sulu placed a hand on his shoulder. Where he came from ‘Corbin’ wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help but feel just a little relieved.  
  
‘Corbin’ turned to Sulu, away from the man in the bed. “The job isn’t finished and if it’s not completed I don’t get paid.”  
  
Sulu shook his head and directed his active back toward the door. “Don’t worry, you’re going to get paid.”  


 

###

  
Getting Romeo back to the barracks was the easy part. Carefully hiding his agitation over the past three hours was the challenge. But Sulu had seen what happened to handlers who lost it, or rather, he noticed how he never saw them again. So, he would be calm about this - or at least as calm as he could be until Romeo was in the chair and he didn’t have eyes and ears monitoring him.   
  
"A kill order that a handler doesn't know about is reckless," said Sulu coming further into the imprint room. "And I thought that this whole operation is about not being reckless."  
  
Although it might have appeared that Chekov wasn’t listening as he was tapping away at his monitor, Sulu had worked with him long enough to know the man could multi-task far better than he let on. The only solution was to cross his arms over his chest and glare at Chekov until he answered.  
  
"We live in the dollhouse, yeah?" He slid back in his chair as he turned his attention to Sulu. It was an antiquated term they were advised not to use, but it was appropriate. "This makes us all dolls and dolls are the playthings of children." Chekov flashed Sulu a smile. "But do not worry, I take good care of my toys, and nothing happens without me doing so.”  
  
“Doesn’t it ever bother you?”  
  
Chekov shrugged. It was not a question he ever gave much thought to - life was better that way. Pushing himself to his feet as the chair moved into an upright position, he switched gears just a little. “Hello Romeo, how are you feeling?”  
  
Romeo looked around the room, not quite taking in all the machines, but letting his eyes focus on the different shapes before looking over at the two men. "Did I fall asleep?" His tone was light with just a hint of confusion.  
  
"For a little while." Chekov’s smile went wide again. The little call and response routine was just about his favorite part. It was like getting to watch the final scene at the end of a really good video game.  
  
"Shall I go?"  
  
"If you like." Chekov moved behind the chair as Romeo stood up. Barefoot, the active padded out of the room, not a worry left in his pretty head. Proud of himself, Chekov turned to smile at Sulu again if only because he knew the man didn’t like it.  
  
A little caught up in each other, neither man had noticed the uneven cadence of Christopher Pike until he was in the doorway. “Doctor McCoy lives.” His voice alone was enough to make Chekov jump. “Three shots, point blank and he’ll be walking in less than a week.”  
  
Even if it wasn’t meant to be a slight against his work, that was how Chekov understood the comment. “But that is impossible! He had all of the skills.” He was up and across the lab to pull up the specs for his Corbin construct. “There was no reason not to complete the engagement. I programmed him to know exactly where to shoot."  
  
"And also where not to,” said Sulu. He was proof of that.   
  
Now, it was Chekov’s turn to glare for being thrown under the bus by his man-friend. So, what if Romeo had shot Sulu while out on the engagement - that wasn’t what they were talking about now.  
  
"The doctor is a problem, gentlemen.” A problem that Chekov had thought had been dealt with the first time. “I want to make sure that Romeo isn't as well. Pay close attention to him, and if he does even a thing you don’t expect...”  
  
Pike didn’t finish the sentence - he didn’t need to. Both of the men in the room heard what went unsaid. “We are in this together, the day we forget that will be our last.”  


 

###

  
For Romeo, the world was simple. He swam thirty laps in the pool every day, saw Dr. Chapel when he was hurt, and he only had to work on being his best. He didn’t need to worry about anything because there was nothing to worry about.  
  
Or at least that was what he was told to believe.   
  
As he crossed the main living area, India looked up at him expectantly and started to approach. Romeo shook his head and kept walking. There might have been nothing to worry about, but he felt that the two of them interacting right now would not be good. The only thing he had to do right now was go to his sleeping pod.  
  
The sleeping racks were little more than holes in the floor, five to a room, like graves. Not that Romeo thought of them as anything other than nice and safe places to rest. He climbed down into his, laying supine so that when the pod door closed he was looking up at the plexiglass and at shapes that weren’t quite letters, etched into the pane.  
  
He reached up, running a finger over them, trying to reconstruct the story they told. This was his fairy tale, but it was something more. At the end of the line, he reached up and added on more character to the tale – two bones crossing over each other. Romeo didn’t know exactly what they meant, but he knew they were important.   
  
They made him feel safe, like he was finally getting somewhere. And as he fell asleep the last word escaping his lips was simple.   
  
“Bones.”


End file.
